


Paperwork

by kitcaliber



Series: You and Your Star [3]
Category: Transformers: Prime
Genre: BDSM, Established Relationship, Other, Sticky Sexual Interfacing, Table Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-29
Updated: 2016-09-29
Packaged: 2018-08-18 11:29:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,654
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8160560
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kitcaliber/pseuds/kitcaliber
Summary: It was just going to be a lazy evening, or so you'd thought.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I'd just like to take a moment to thank everyone who's encouraged my robot-fucking ways. I'm really proud of myself, and even though I'm still pretty scared of mistakes and/or straight-up failure, I'm still writing and I'm still posting it, especially since I know there's an audience for it! So, thanks again for all the encouragement. <3
> 
> That's enough sappy stuff, now here's the porn. See ya in the end notes!

You sprawled yourself across the double-wide berth with a content sigh before picking up your datapad and connecting it to the human internet to relax and kill some time.

Until the door slid open with its telltale pneumatic hiss, and your optics flicked up in response. In strode Starscream, looking calm with his hands behind his back.

“Welcome back, dear,” you said, optics returning to the screen. “How'd it go?”

“Mm, just fine. Mission was a success,” he said, sitting himself at the edge of the berth at your side.

“I'm glad,” you said, putting your datapad off to the side before placing a hand on his back. “Lay down with me. You should relax.”

“Typically, if a beautiful bot asked to share a berth with me, I wouldn't hesitate...” he paused, looking down at you with an expression you couldn't quite read. “But, don't you have something to be doing right now?”

“...You?”

He chuckled, gently placing a hand on your cheek. “Not in this case, my dear. I was referring to the mission report Megatron told you to deliver to Soundwave by tomorrow.”

Your face fell. “Oh. That.”

“Have you started it yet?”

“No...”

Withdrawing the hand from your face, he looked down at you expectantly. “Well, then get out of the berth and go get started.”

He went to stand up but you grabbed his hand. “But...I wanna...”

His signature smug smile found its way onto his face as he bent down close to yours. “You want to what, dear? Or, should I say... _pet?_ ”

You felt yourself start to lubricate behind your closed panel. “I wanna...'face with you...” You mumbled sheepishly, trying to look anywhere but his optics.

“Isn't that sentence missing something, my pet? Try it again – _correctly_ this time.”

“I wanna 'face with you, Master...” You repeated yourself, still mumbling, but with the proper addition.

“Hmmm...” He placed a hand on his face, lightly tapping his index finger against his cheek as he thought. “I have an idea, my pet. You stay right here...oh, and offline your optics for me, will you?”

Your processor positively _burned_ with the desire to ask why, but you somehow resisted the urge to ask questions. “Yes, Master,” you replied in a hesitant monotone, powering off your optics shortly after.

Instantly, you were immersed in complete darkness. Despite knowing full well you could easily reverse it and restore your sight, you couldn't help but feel like you were completely at his mercy. You flinched at the feeling of him placing his hands on your face before gently turning your head - to face him, you guessed.

As suddenly as his hands were on you, they were gone. “Very good, pet. Now, _do not move._ Is that clear?”

“...Yes, Master.” You had wanted to say something about being unable to get up and navigate the berthroom without falling on your aft, but quickly realized that may earn you a good hard slap or two to the same area.

So you simply lay there, still and silent as your audials nearly strained themselves trying to pick up data to fill the gap left by your optics being offline, and slowly your processor picked apart and identified the sounds. A set of distinctive metal footsteps, followed by the sound of the chest at the end of the berth being opened. Some indecisive mumbling, followed by a quiet but enthusiastic “aha!” The chest closed, then the footsteps picked up again; the sound of a chair being dragged along the ground somewhere off by the wall to your side, and a short bout of silence. The chair was dragged again, then the footsteps started again...headed towards you.

“Sit up and online your optics, pet.”

“Yes, Master.” Your reply was nearly automatic as you sat up, turning towards him and sitting with your legs hanging off the edge of the berth. The world came flooding back into view, appeasing your nervous processor...though only somewhat. Starscream stood a few feet in front of you, looking down at you with a calm smile somewhat betrayed by his upwardly pointed optical ridges.

“Go to the table, open your panel, and sit down.”

You raised an optical ridge and lowered the other, attempting to express confusion without actually speaking words.

Of course, he ignored this. “I've given you an order, pet. What does a good pet do when Master gives an order?”

“O-Obey the order, Master...”

“Then why aren't you?”

Without another word, you stood up and hesitantly walked forwards, your panel opening along the way. You could see a datapad laid on the table; as you got closer, you could see it was open to a blank document. Putting two and two together, you theorized that he was going to make you sit and do your report with your panel open.

Pulling out the chair to sit down, however, made you stop dead in your tracks, staring down at the seat. A false spike, on the small side but still perfectly capable, sat attached to the seat of the chair.

Starscream walked up behind you and placed his hands on your waist as he pressed himself up close to your back, bent down slightly to make up for the height difference. “If you don't sit down in the next ten seconds, I'm going to put you on it myself.” The harsh, menacing whisper in your audial sent shivers down your spinal strut – out of both fear and a strange excitement.

Trembling slightly, you moved forwards and carefully positioned yourself over the tip before sinking down a little, involuntarily letting out a gasp as it entered you. You pulled up a little and sank down some more, repeating the process a couple of times before you heard a scoff next to and above you. You went to turn your head to look at him, but were abruptly cut off by him quickly stepping behind you, putting his hands just above your hips, and giving a firm shove downwards.

You couldn't help but cry out, in pain and pleasure, as your aft made contact with the seat and the false spike was fully buried inside you; your knees snapped together instinctively, as if it would help you at all; and Starscream still had his hands on you, now moving them gently up and down your sides as you shuddered.

“Doing alright, my dear pet?” He purred into your audial.

“Hhaaa...Y-Ye-s, M-Ma-Master...” The sound of your own stuttering only served to embarrass you further as you writhed in place.

“Then I take it you won't mind if I make sure this isn't too easy for you.”

“Wha...” You started, but the hands on your waist quickly disappeared, before you felt one of your legs suddenly leave the ground. The surprise drew a short yelp from you, and you found yourself unable to pull your leg back down. He'd cuffed it to the back of the chair, you realized with a gasp. He repeated the action for the other side as well before pushing your chair in, walking around to the other side of the table, and sitting across from you.

“If your feet touch the ground, it gives you the ability to lift yourself off the spike. All I've done is take away that ability. The point isn't to get you to overload. In fact, if you do, you'll be punished. Understand me, pet?”

“Y...Yes, Master.”

“Now, you're going to sit there and do your assignment. I'm going to watch you and make sure you actually do as you're told. You see, my dear pet, I'm holding the remote to that spike you're seated on right now,” he explained, holding out a small device with a single button on it. “When I push this button...well, perhaps it'd be better to demonstrate than to explain.”

You opened your mouth to protest, but he pushed the button anyway, and from your open mouth was torn a cry of pain as a short electric shock ripped through your valve.

“If you stop for too long, or if I catch you trying to fuck yourself on that spike, you'll get a shock. If, at any given moment, I cannot see _both_ of your hands, you'll get a shock. Do you understand, pet?”

“Y-Y-Yes, M-Master.”

He nodded before producing a datapad for himself out of his subspace. “Good. Begin.”

Your hands placed themselves on the table as you stared down at the datapad, almost in disbelief. Your processor swam with thoughts mostly centering on “how am I supposed to concentrate like this?” But with a shake of your head, your trembling hands came to rest on the datapad and, by Primus, you actually started typing. Of course, the first thing you wrote out was a run-on sentence filled with expletives mostly directed towards Starscream, but after you ran out of ideas for that, you erased it and took a deep invent to center yourself. Trying not to think too hard about the spike inside you, just barely brushing your ceiling node, you gritted your dentae and started the report for real.

You got through an entire paragraph and had started another before you had to stop for a moment, your calipers cycling down over and over again. Without even realizing it, you tried to bounce yourself up and down on that spike, hands on the table for leverage. Of course, you could barely move up more than an inch, but that didn’t stop you from trying – all you could think about was getting some pleasure out of your current situation.

Suddenly, a shock tore through you, and you let out a pained screech.

“Bad pet. Do as you’re told.”

“Y-Y-Yes, Master…”

Your focus returned to the datapad in front of you until you felt another shock – shorter and less intense, but still enough to make you cry out.

“What do you say?”

Your vision swam as you looked up at him, dazed expression on your face.

He gave a small, yet exaggerated, sigh. “I’m helping you focus on your assignment, pet. What do you say when someone does something nice for you?”

You quickly put two and two together; your internal temperature went up a few degrees as your exhaust fans clicked up a notch and one of your hands, curled into a fist, placed itself in front of your mouth.

“Th…Thank you, Master.”

A sly smile spread across his face. “You are _very_ welcome, my pet. Now, continue working. You don’t want to be sitting on that all night, do you?”

“N-No, Master, I d-don’t.”

“That’s what I thought.”

As he returned to whatever he’d been doing on his own datapad, you stared down at your own. Giving yourself a mental pep talk, you willed your body to loosen up and relax as you put your hands back to the datapad.

You’d gotten a decent way in – two or so pages – before you were once again overcome by need. Your optics flicked up to look at Starscream and found that his full attention was turned towards his datapad. Returning your gaze downwards, you slowly pulled one hand off the table and, once you were sure it was out of view, quickly found your external node and started to rub it. Your mouth dropped open and your optics rolled upwards as you worked.

In a completely predictable turn of events, it wasn’t long before an electric shock ripped through your body, long and strong enough to bring tears to your optics.

“Hand above the table!” He demanded loudly. Your hand found its way back above the table to rest on the surface, telltale liquid staining your fingers. “You seem absolutely determined to get punished. If that’s what you want, I can go get the switch and give you ten lashes right now.” His voice had settled down a bit even if his enraged expression hadn’t. “Is that what you want, pet?”

“N-N-No, M-Master, p-please—” You knew he wouldn’t actually do it, but the thought of it was still frightening.

“Then I suggest you behave yourself. Bad pets don’t get rewarded, you know.”

Your calipers cycled down around the false spike at the idea of a ‘reward’ – knowing him, it’d most likely be an overload or two so intense your optics would fritz out. You found yourself suddenly filled with renewed determination. “Yes, Master!” You said enthusiastically, going to return to your assignment.

“ _Freeze._ ”

You stopped dead, hands floating a couple of inches above the datapad, and looked up at him questioningly.

He simply pointed at your sticky hand. “Lick it clean.”

Slowly, you raised your hand towards your mouth, staring at the lubricant stains as it drew closer. You invented once, then tightly shuttered your optics and stuffed the offending fingers into your mouth, the taste of your own lubricant instantly hitting your glossa.

“Good pet…” You heard him say softly as your glossa danced around your fingers, trying to make sure every bit of lubricant came off. “Very good.”

Once you were sure you didn’t taste any more lubricant, you hesitantly fluttered your optics open and removed your fingers, placing your hand back on the table.

“Well done,” he said, reaching forwards across the short distance of the table and placing his hand gently on the side of your face. He gave your cheek a couple of soft, reassuring rubs before starting to slide downwards, over your shoulder and down your arm to rest on the hand you’d just finished with. “Let me see.”

He slid his hand under your own and lifted it, leaning forwards to inspect it; after a couple of seconds looking, he placed a kiss on the back of your hand before returning it to its spot. “Very good, pet. Now, do try and finish up soon…preferably without me having to press this button again. Understood?”

“Yes, Master.” Your stutter-less reply surprised you as you returned your hands to the datapad yet again and resumed what you’d been doing.

It didn’t take terribly long before finally, _blessedly,_ you realized you’d exhausted your supply of information. Typing furiously, you half-assed a conclusion before saving the file and placing your hands aside.

The movement drew his attention away from the datapad in his hand. “Either you’ve finished, or you’re consciously making a terrible decision.”

“I’m finished, Master,” you said, having trouble hiding the glee you felt at the prospect of being set free.

He reached forward and slid the datapad over to his side of the table. “Then I’m sure you’ll be alright with me making sure it’s of acceptable quality. What do you say, pet?”

You groaned, realizing this meant more time helpless and impaled, and now you had nothing to distract yourself with. “Yes, Master…” You muttered, slumping over a bit.

“Oh, don’t worry, my dear pet. This won’t take too long, and if you’ve written an acceptable report, you’ll be allowed off that spike…” He paused before quietly adding, “…and onto mine.”

You weren’t sure if he’d meant for you to hear that last part, but you did, and your calipers cycled down hard. You looked up at him, watching him read through your report for what felt like an hour. You were fairly sure he was reading slowly on purpose. Stifling another frustrated groan, you slumped over and your face met the table’s surface.

“Almost done, pet. Patience,” he said, without looking up. Somehow, this did nothing to calm you. Your hands moved behind your head, clasped together and pressing downwards. The only things you found yourself able to think about were: 1) having that false spike removed so you could sit normally, and 2) having Starscream ram his own spike into you until your vocalizer shorted out, and then some. You could feel the lubricant leaking out of your valve as your calipers kept squeezing shut.

“Well, it seems like you’ve done a good job, pet,” he finally spoke up, catching your attention. You looked up and saw him placing the datapad down on the table before standing up. “I’ll bet you want to get up now, don’t you?”

“Y-Yes, Master, please!”

He chuckled as he moved behind you. “Just be patient a little longer, my lovely pet.”

You’d opened your mouth to complain, but let out a slight cry of surprise when both your legs dropped back down to the floor. “Oh, thank—” You started, but were cut off by his hands firmly planting themselves on your waist and pulling you up and off the toy that had been tormenting you for so long.

“ _Now_ you can thank me,” he said, smirking at you, still holding you in the air, almost like a doll.

“Thank you, Master. Please put me down and fuck me.”

His optical ridges snapped to their maximum height and he slowly blinked a couple of times. “What?” Clearly, he hadn’t been expecting that.

“I said, ‘thank you, Master, please put me down and fuck me.’”

“Don’t smart-mouth me, pet. I’ll punish you.”

“ _Please,_ ” you whined, starting to struggle against him, pulling at his fingers and uselessly kicking your legs.

He quickly turned and plopped you down on the table where your datapad had been only a few minutes earlier. The table was high enough that your feet didn’t reach the ground, and Starscream only had to bend over slightly to be able to whisper into your audial.

“You know I can’t resist you when you’re so _deliciously_ filthy.”

You let out a high-pitched squeal as he bit one of your neck cables and gently pulled on it. One of his hands slid its way between your legs and you parted them in response, allowing him room to rub his palm up and down your slick valve folds, making sure to give your node some attention as well. You reached up behind him and put your hands on his shoulders, pulling him in closer. “I…I need it…need you…”

He released the cable he’d been tormenting and placed a hand on your cheek, looking you in the optics. “I’m right here, my pet.”

You started to rock your hips, grinding yourself against his hand for more contact. “P-Please, _please_ fuck me…”

“There you go again with that filthy talk…” He said, before capturing your mouth in a rough, passionate kiss, occasionally breaking it to speak. “You’re so dirty…I wonder what I should do with such a dirty little pet…”

You whined into the kiss, as loudly as you could.

“You want my spike inside you, don’t you?”

“Y-Yes, yes, _please!_ ”

Almost instantly, he pulled you up off the table and flipped you over before laying you face-down on it, his hands on your upper back to hold you in place and your legs dangling over the edge. “Wha—!!”

You weren’t sure when he’d opened his own panel, but it didn’t really matter; he slid his spike into you with a long moan, fully burying himself in one quick thrust. Though you’d had something inside you for a decent amount of time, he was definitely bigger, and the stretch combined with the feeling of his tip colliding with your ceiling node had you screaming in pleasure.

“How do…nnngh…you like that, pet?” He ground out between huffs and short moans.

Your cries intensified, attempting to arrange themselves into an answer.

“Tell me.” He demanded, slowing his pace.

“Ah…I…I l-love it…I love it! M-More, please, I need more!”

He chuckled darkly. “That’s what I like to hear.”

His pace intensified again, and he removed one hand from your back, using it to instead pull one of your thighs up onto the table and firmly hold it there, opening you up wider and allowing him to sink himself even deeper into you. Your vision blurred as you tried to find something for your hands to grab onto and your cries intensified along with the pleasure. Every deep thrust made your processor go wonderfully numb as you felt the charge curling around your tanks building towards its apex.

“I’m gonna…overload…!”

“Good,” he huffed, slamming into you with more force. “Come for me.”

Then your optics fritzed out, reducing the world to a mass of jumbled pixels as your charge hit maximum, your overload tearing through you, pure pleasure coursing through your system. His pace slowed, but he continued to slam your ceiling node with the same intensity, drawing out your overload.

“Get ready,” he warned in a low voice. It didn’t quite register in your current state, but it did catch your attention. He thrust into you three times more before he stopped, buried to the hilt, and released his transfluid into you with a long, satisfied moan.

As your own overload wore off, you felt him slide out of you before turning you back over, slowly, his exhaustion showing.

“Come on…let’s go lay down.” His voice was quiet and almost sweet, and he smiled down at you.

You returned the smile. “That sounds great.”

You went to hop down off the table, but he cut you off by picking you up and holding you close before turning and walking towards the berth. It wasn’t a long walk, but you found yourself smiling gleefully into his shoulder as he carried you so carefully.

He leaned over the berth and laid you down towards the far side, before quickly laying down by your side and pulling you back into his arms, as if it had hurt to be separated from you. He pressed a kiss to your forehead, and you couldn’t help but let out a small giggle.

“What’s so funny?” He asked you, one optical ridge cocked, a one-sided smile on his face.

“Not funny,” you corrected. “Just…really happy. I love you so much.”

He looked at you with love and adoration on his face before his lips met yours.

“I love you too.”

**Author's Note:**

> \- I've always imagined that readerbot is exactly tall enough to look Starscream's Decepticon insignia in the eyes. This creates a height difference that isn't drastic, but is still noticeable.  
> \- This, of course, led me to envisioning a table with two chairs of different heights, and I giggled to myself for half an hour continuing to imagine the furniture in a house occupied by a Cybertronian couple with a height difference. (hehe a washroom sink with a step-stool in front of it ehehehe)  
> \- ANYWAY that's why readerbot's legs don't touch the ground. The table is sized for Starscream's height.
> 
> If you made it all the way through, thanks for reading! <3 I promise there's more coming, I've actually been keeping a list of ideas in a notebook ehehehe...


End file.
